WASHINGTON
- Another 9/11, with the same translucent sky. I switched off the e-mail
and the cable news channels, left the office and rode the train to Arlington.

The
national cemetery is a stirring place. The long white lines of graves trace
the rise and fall of grassy hillsides. A few hundred feet away, visible
through a line of oaks, is the southwest side of the Pentagon, a place
of flame and horror two years ago.

On
one green slope is a freshly turned patch of red Virginia clay, with temporary
markers that denote new graves. A little farther along, but in the same
row, the dirt gives way to proper sod, and newly etched tombstones that
gleam in the sun.

The
older stones say "World War II" or "Vietnam." The name of a new war is
carved upon the fresh ones: "Iraq."

The
freshest of these graves is Spec. Darryl Dent's.
He was 21 on Aug. 26, when, the Army says, a remotely triggered explosion
took his life as he rode in a truck, delivering mail, just north of Baghdad.
He is one of the two dozen members of the National Guard to die thus far
in Iraq. His unit, the district's National Guard 547th Transportation Co.,
was mobilized last winter.

He
spent his childhood in North Carolina, then left his mother's home to join
his dad, who worked as a doorman here in Washington. He graduated from
Roosevelt High School, where he was a standout in the Junior ROTC program.
He enrolled in a mentoring program, following physicians in their daily
work, at the Washington Medical Center.

"He
wanted to be a doctor; that was his aspiration," Johnette Wilson, who runs
the program, said when I called her. "He was kind of shy when he came;
very serious-minded. He was gentle, and kind-spirited.

"He
went into the ROTC. He said to me that he needed to raise the funds to
give him an opportunity to pay for college," said Wilson. "When he talked
about going into the military, at that time it wasn't a war. Young men
don't think that it will come to that, and to be honest with you, neither
did I."

Two
members of Colorado's Army National Guard have offered their lives to this
war on terror: Sgt. 1st Class Daniel Romero in Afghanistan, and Staff Sgt.
Barry Sanford in Iraq. There will be additional deaths, for the Guard is
being asked to serve more often, and for longer stretches of time. Last
week the Army ordered thousands of Guard and reserve personnel to extend
their tour of duty in Iraq. The Guard's promotional ads say it proudly:
"Front door to combat in hours."

Two
years. And the war that began on 9/11 has now lasted longer than the Spanish-American
War, or our part in World War I, or more than half the time it took us
to win World War II.

We
have conquered, and now bear the hopes and burdens of, two fabled lands
upon whose unforgiving deserts and fanged peaks the dreams of previous
empires crumbled.

In
Vietnam, we could quit, pack up, and go home: Ho Chi Minh had no pirated
Russian nukes, or vials of smallpox germs. This will be tougher; defeat
is not an option.

We
must stay and win a peace, cure ills and curb old hatreds. And if you wonder
how long and hard it may be, then take a look at the Palestinians.

The
day's last sunshine fell upon the lawns and magnolia trees, raced across
the muddy Potomac and lit the monuments of the federal city with a golden-red
glow, the color of the sands of Normandy.

I mumbled
a prayer, and I'm not a praying man.

Lord,
let us get this right. The graves of Darryl Dent and these other young
soldiers cry out for meaning, demand no less.